Tuesday, 31 July 2018

Major Steve Sullivan leaned back in his
chair his eyes drifting from the scruffy individual sitting on the edge of his
desk to the crestfallen face of the young man seated on a camp stool to the
front of them.

“Well, Tim, what an unexpected pleasure,”
the unkempt man said, lowering himself from his perch.

“Mister Devlin,” Tim Schendel acknowledged
without raising his head.

“You two know each other?” Sullivan asked.

Devlin nodded: “You could say that. Young
Tim there has been in and out of trouble that he’s bloody lucky not to see the
inside of a prison.”

Kyle Devlin had been an English policeman
who had served, on loan from the London force, with the New York Metropolitan
Police. Now he had been seconded to the Union Army tasked with upholding the
law and dealing with deserters in garrison towns.

“Well, Tim, this time you are in serious
trouble,” Devlin pointed out. “You’re listed as a deserter and, by rights, you
should be stood in front of a firing squad. However, you just done something
that, to my knowledge, no other deserter has – you bloody well surrendered.
Why?”

Ever since he had seen the burnt out house Tim had feared the worst. He
had chosen not to ride in closer as he did not want to see Sam’s charred corpse
amongst the ruins. It was as though his life had ended and guilt flooded
through him. The least he could do was to clear her name.

Having rehearsed what he would say in his
mind the last person he thought he would be confessing to was Kyle Devlin.

Taking a deep breath he recounted
everything that had occurred from the discovery of the broken down wagon to the
point where he had encouraged Sam to desert with him. Every so often both Kyle
and Sullivan would probe for a little more detail until they had a full
picture.

“Right – you’re telling us that Graydon
knew that Corporal Darnell was, in fact, a girl?” Kyle pressed, thoughtfully.
“Despite that you claim that he was going to declare her as a deserter. For
what reason, do you suppose? There are no women serving in this army.”

Tim shook his head: “He asked me if I
knew and I said that I didn’t. He just grinned and said that when we caught her
we could have some fun with her first. I couldn’t let him do that – so I got
Sam out of there.”

After almost an hour of intense
interrogation Tim was thoroughly drained. Nervously, he glanced up as Devlin
strode by him and summoned the guard detail. First, he ordered the Corporal in
charge to take Tim to the infirmary for the old wound to be checked. Then to
the Quartermaster to have Trooper Schendel re-equipped.

Only when everyone had gone did Sullivan
pour himself a glass of bourbon and light up a cigar. He focused on a streamer
of smoke floating ghostlike across the room before expressing his feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,”
Sullivan stated. “But Canada is out. We have no jurisdiction.”

“Well, I can’t let those Darnell boys get
away,” Devlin shrugged. “They killed that Government agent and claimed that he
was a deserter. It could have been a case of mistaken identity except there’s a
matter of a missing money belt and five thousand dollars. Nor is that the only
robbery linked to the Darnells.”

“If the girl’s alive,” Sullivan,
emphasizing each word with a stab of the cigar, was quick to point out. “She’ll
side with her brothers.”

Devlin was well aware that was a
possibility just as the skeptic in him felt that the burning of the Maybelle
house was just a ruse to throw pursuers off the scent.

“That’s where young Tim comes in,” Devlin
explained. “Hopefully, giving Sam the news that she is in the clear the whole
family will come back. Even so, Tim will still be a deserter because he did the
right thing the wrong way.”

It took a while for all the factors to
sink in before Sullivan burst out laughing.

“You’re one devious bastard, Kyle
Devlin,” he nodded. “Schendel is bait – except you are about to recruit him and
give him legitimism. He’s going to love you when he discovers that he’s a
policeman.” Before adding on a serious note. “There’s still the question of
Graydon. Have you thought about what could happen if he and Schendel run into
each other?”

“Graydon isn’t going after a deserter,”
Devlin was quick to point out. “He’s chasing down a woman – ergo he has
deserted his post and that makes him fair game.”

Living on the rough streets of New York had
taught Tim many things – the most important was knowing who your friends were.
Sure Officer Kyle Devlin was his nemesis but the policeman had always been
fair. With this in mind he had known that there would come a day when Devlin
would not be able to help him so Tim had escaped from New York’s stranglehold. He
had to smile at his current predicament and who was there? Devlin. And now they
were heading to Canada together.

Devlin nodded for he had been conscious of
the lurker half-hidden in the shadows.

“Doesn’t leave you does it,” Devlin grinned
as he mounted up. “The stuff that keeps you alive on the streets just doesn’t
go – life depends on those instincts. You either become a criminal or -.”

“I got the message,” Tim shook his head in
amusement. “You were going to say policeman.”

Devlin just nodded.

“Just so that you know,” Devlin advised
throwing Tim a meaningful look. “You’re off the deserter’s list – for now. But
you are under my command and I have to be alive for that to be permanent. In
the meantime we’ll need to watch our backs because I’m a bit suspicious about
that Sergeant’s interest in us.”

About Me

I was born in North London but moved to Orpington, Kent. I write westerns under the name of Jack Giles that are published by Robert Hale's Black Horse Western brand.
Having brought up six children and seen them married off -as a result we now have 15 grandchildren - we now live in Kent.